


Ruby

by bloosie



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - High School, Based on a Twenty One Pilots Song, F/F, F/M, Gender Dysphoria, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Internalized Homophobia, Internalized Misogyny, M/M, Trans Dave, Trans Male Character, also i love pepsicola, bro is dirk and does mostly dirk things, but i feel like i can't write a fic without being like "oh hey rose and kanaya are dating!!!", dave's name was ruby, i don't make the rules, i don't ship them as hard as i ship other things, i had this idea when i was listening to ruby, i promise he's not awful like bro is, mentions of strife, projection of feelings, repression of feelings, rosemary is a little bit my otp, rosemary is best canon couple sorry, so i had to do it i'm sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2018-10-21 05:30:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10678671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloosie/pseuds/bloosie
Summary: The one thought that crossed your mind and that has stuck with you forever was that she was an angel.





	1. An Angel Fallen Down

**Author's Note:**

> full disclosure: the way i word some things may be kinda... vulgar. or even kinda rude, possibly they may come off as transmisogynistic. big point is. . . . it's not my views, it's meant to be the characters' views. tags will be adjusted and fixed....... and toward the end, it'll show learning and acceptance of the main characters. i'm sorry.

You had known her basically your whole life. Of course, your whole life didn’t consist of much. Twelve years isn’t a long time, even for a twelve-year-old.

She was your best friend. You knew, at your age, what that meant. It meant you shared your favorite snacks with her, and she with you. It meant you had sleep-overs every weekend and when there was no school. It meant you played together at recess, sat together at lunch. It meant you stood up for her when the other kids picked on her for having red eyes. It meant she stood up for you when the other kids picked on you, in turn, for having glasses. You were inseparable, and had been since you literally stumbled into each other’s lives at the young age of four.

 

You were with your dad at the grocery store, it was your fourth birthday. Everyone insists you shouldn’t be able to remember something like this because of how young you are, but every detail is etched permanently into your memory.

She was running, laughing, these ridiculous shades that were far too big for her balancing on the bridge of her nose. She turned the corner right as you did the same, though your speed was much more appropriate for a four-year-old at the grocery store, and you smacked into each other.

The one thought that crossed your mind and that has stuck with you forever was that she was an angel. You must have uttered such that day, because she grinned and, having already recovered her balance, stuck out a hand to help you up. A man, wearing shades like hers, towered behind her.

In a deep voice, he asked first if she was okay, then if you were. You said yes, of course, then your dad appeared behind you. He fussed over the collision, and apologized to the man for letting you get out of hand.

“It’s not a problem,” started the hulking man, “Lil man is fine, my girl’s fine.”

The rest of the memories from that day were blurry. All you could think of was the angel from the grocery store. Long white-blonde hair, skin more fair than even yours. When she stumbled, her sunglasses fell from her face to reveal incredible red eyes.

For a year, you hoped to see the angel again in the store, but you never did. You hoped to see her at the park, but you never did.

You forgot about her almost entirely, though she was often glimpsed in dreams or on the street, a phantom image of a girl you didn’t entirely believe was real. Your dad forgot about the run-in altogether, further confirming the belief that it was a dream.

Your first day of kindergarten, you were excited and sad. You could make friends, but you would be away from your dad for the first extended time in your life. He worked, sure, but he usually took you with him. He owned a bakery, and many of his customers came to know you as the store’s makeshift mascot. A playful little boy with the biggest, bluest eyes they’d ever seen.

You walked through the door of the school, your dad’s hand in your own. He escorted you to the classroom, and knelt down to hug you before letting you go in.

Turning around to go into that classroom instead of following your dad was the best decision you ever made. The angel, whom you had convinced yourself was a dream, was standing in the middle of the classroom, not looking in your direction, but not facing away either. She had no shades, and even from that distance you could see the red in her eyes.

Throughout the day, you tried to pay attention, you really did. You sat at the chair with “JOHN E.” written in pretty handwriting on the table in front of it. She sat across from you, and her table said “RUBY S.” Ruby. You smiled when she sat down the first time, asking how she was. She looked confused for a moment, then her face was blank. She was fine, she said, but she wasn’t supposed to talk to strangers.

Your angel had forgotten you after only a year and a few months.

You took it in stride, but kept trying. You wanted to know the girl with the red eyes and a red name.

She was horrible. She was mean, she played alone, and she insisted every time you tried to talk to her that she didn’t need friends. She didn’t want friends, so would you please go bother someone else.

In first grade, she was in your class again. She let you be friends with her, if only to get you to stop asking. She cut her hair short in first grade. It was above her shoulders, in a bob cut that fit her heart-shaped face well. Her birthday was in December, and she asked if you wanted to come to her “birthday party.” She said it wasn’t really a party. She was just going to have a boxed cake with her brother and cousins probably.

You were elated. Your dad got in touch with her brother, and baked a cake for her birthday. You picked out a card that you thought was hilarious, but knew she wouldn’t like. She was big on the idea of irony that her brother fed her. She spoke of it often, and it was clear that she regarded her brother as a wonderful person.

At her party, you met her brother again. The giant man who wore pointy shades like Ruby’s. You met her cousins, too. Both were very sophisticated. One was roughly the same age as her brother, while the other looked about your age. They were introduced as Roxy and Rose. Rose informed you that she was in first grade and homeschooled in New York, but that her mother insisted they come to Texas to celebrate birthdays.

As it turned out, both Ruby and her brother, Dirk, had birthdays on December third. The party was for both of them, but Dirk focused the attention on her instead.

Your dad invited Dirk and Ruby to Christmas with you, then a New Year’s celebration. You invited her to your seventh birthday party, too. It was a little bit bigger than hers. Roxy and Rose came for your birthday because Dirk mentioned it to Roxy. Again you met your friend Rose, who you had decided was your friend without her saying so.

Summer came, and Roxy and Rose permanently relocated to Texas. Rose started school with Ruby and you in second grade, and your cousin Jade moved to town about a month later. She had lived with your grandpa, and when he passed away she moved in with your dad and you.

She fit your group well, making Rose chuckle a little, more than you could get from her. She irritated Ruby sometimes, but everyone did.

It was your second grade Christmas that you admitted to yourself that you had a little crush on Ruby. You had never felt anything like that before, even for your movie-crushes.

In third grade, Ruby started wearing her shades to school. They fit her better than when you were little-little, but seeing them reminded you of the idea you had when you were younger of her being an angel. You have since dismissed this notion, knowing her better now. Appearances don’t mean as much to you, though you’d be a fool to deny she was beautiful.

In fourth grade, her brother, whom you all knew as Bro, gave Ruby a phone. She gave you and Jade her phone number to talk outside of school, and you called each other every day after school. Because of this, your dad got Jade and you phones for your tenth birthday. You gave Ruby and Rose your phone numbers as well, and the four of you were officially always in contact.

You learned to text with them, even though you were really slow at it. Each of the others made fun of you for being slow, but you didn’t mind. They were your friends, and you had fun with them. That was what mattered, you thought.

In fifth grade, Ruby started to date your standoffish friend Eridan, and you were surprised to find yourself jealous. She wasn’t yours, you knew that. They broke up before Christmas. Eridan realized, dating her, that even though they were great friends, he didn’t really like girls all that much.

In sixth grade, there were new students in your grade. Kanaya Maryam and her cousin Karkat Vantas. She was polite and soft-spoken. English, she said, wasn’t her first language. You couldn’t remember, but thought it was Italian or something. Either way, she was gorgeous. Taller than most of the other sixth graders, olive skin, hair just as dark as yours, and jade-colored eyes. Karkat showed almost no family resemblance. He could almost be described as gangly, if he was taller. He was shorter, even, than you, with messy, dark brown hair, pale skin, gray eyes, and early frown lines. Also, he was fucking _loud._

 

This brings you to now. It is seventh grade. You have been on the receiving end of many stares and more attempts at flirting. It was nice, having attention. Over the summer you went from barely grazing the five-foot mark, to being five-foot-six, and apparently that added height was all people needed to think you were cooler than before. You really weren’t, you just had all new clothes since you were growing.

It was a welcome difference, especially once one of the prettiest girls you knew, Vriska Serket, took a liking to you. She asked you to the winter dance, and of course you agreed. Since you only lived a couple blocks away from each other, you walked to her house and her mother, blonde just like Vriska, drove the two of you to the dance. She wished you well before departing. Before the two of you walked inside, Vriska turned to you and, with no warning, kissed you. It was a peck, even if it was longer than the platonic cheek-kisses your family often exchanged. Your eyes were wide, startled. In your peripheral vision, you saw a dress as red as your best friend’s eyes, followed by a short head of white-blonde hair. A scoff reached your ears, then rapid steps.

When your eyes found Vriska’s face, she was smirking.

Ruby didn’t talk to you, let alone look at you, for a week. You and Vriska started dating, but you quickly grew bored of it. She was kind of really mean, and maybe a little manipulative? You didn’t really have any experience on the matter, but when she told you to go somewhere with her, you knew better than to question it or to say no. Something you learned quickly was that Vriska got what she wanted nine times out of ten. Vriska wanted you to hold her hand, so you did. Vriska wanted you to kiss her, so you did. She didn’t want you to break up with her, so you didn’t. You didn’t want to know what would happen if you didn’t let her have what she wanted. Probably some horror story waiting to happen. Rose would get a kick out of that.

You tried to make time for your friends. You didn’t want to abandon them. Vriska didn’t like them, and didn’t want you hanging around them, though, so you didn’t. When she and her mom went out of town, you spent every possible moment with your friends, catching up with them. Ruby was wearing her hair longer again, and you were reminded again of why you initially thought she was an angel. If not an angel, she had to be some kind of royalty. They don’t just _make_ people that beautiful for no reason.

The three of you - Rose, Ruby, and you, went to the park together one day. Rose left an hour or so in, saying her mother had texted summoning her. For the first time since fifth grade, you were able to spend time with your best friend, in title alone at this point. You hardly spoke, and laughter didn’t come as easily between you and the cool kid.

She wore the shades you had given her for her thirteenth birthday - supposedly the exact ones that had actually touched Ben Stiller’s weird, sort gaunt face at some point. They looked better on her than the anime-esque shades she and Bro wore. She acted like it wasn’t a big deal, but you knew she appreciated your ironic gift more than she hinted at, if only due to the fact that she wore them almost every day.

Finally, she broke the silence.

“I hate your girlfriend. I know I probably shouldn’t say that since we’re good friends and I should encourage you to do things you want, but you’re too stupid to see that she doesn’t even like you. She likes the idea of having someone she can do whatever she wants with, and you can’t even see that. You’re infatuated by the idea of a girl liking you,” she let it all go at once, not stopping for a second breath even once. Her words said she cared what happened, but her tone said it didn’t matter. Her face was blank, no anger or hatred present. Not even a wisp of compassion.

“Thanks, man. I really wanted my best friend to tell me I’m stupid today when I came here to spend time with said friend and her cousin. Exactly my plan. Now, if we’re done insulting John, I’m just going to go.” Your tone was harsh, almost venomous. You were hurt by Ruby’s words, especially since she literally told you that you just liked the idea of someone liking you, instead of liking your _girlfriend._

Ruby didn’t try to stop you. Before you left, you saw that her mouth had gone from its usual position of indifference to a tight-lipped almost-frown. Maybe you were just projecting. Maybe the idea that your best friend wasn’t really your friend at all anymore was getting to you. Maybe it was that she was right, you didn’t really care for Vriska and just wanted someone to care about you.

Of course, if you admitted it to yourself, you would know that the only reason you were going out with Vriska was because the true object of your affections had no interest. Probably less than no interest. In that single interaction, you probably destroyed the chance of her ever having interest in you. You were like a piece of gum that got stuck on her shoe and she couldn’t get it off no matter how hard she tried.

 

When Vriska got back from her trip, you didn’t break up with her. You wanted to, if only because she made you want to walk away from Ruby. You didn’t tell her about the situation, either. You knew if you did either of those, she would make you regret it. She would tell Ruby, and what little was left between you would be shattered. Was there anything still there? Did she hate you already? You didn’t have answers to anything you wanted to know.

The rest of seventh grade went quickly. Vriska didn’t so much as wish you a happy birthday on your thirteenth birthday, but had, earlier in the school year, demanded you get her at least one gift for hers. She was something, but not anything good.

For her fourteenth birthday, Vriska wanted to have sex. All the cool kids had done it already, she said, as though that would make it any better. She could get a condom, she insisted, if it would make you more comfortable. Her exact words, in a text, read “If it’ll m8ke you stop 8eing such a pussy a8out it, I can get a condom. My mom wouldn’t even care. She’d 8e like, “Good on you for using protection. 8e safe! :::;)” 8ecause she’s actually a spider or something like that.” It wasn’t very encouraging, but you were still afraid of saying no to Vriska so you went along with it. You hated yourself during it, and afterward. It was hard to look in the mirror, knowing you had gone with Vriska’s wishes on something so serious as that. She continued to tell you when she wanted it, so you guessed she liked it. You learned pretty quickly that if she didn’t like something you did, she didn’t tell you to do it again.

You were sure, now, that she was manipulative. You were starting to agree with Ruby, whom it had been a hot minute since you had spoken to. You caught yourself sneaking glances at her in your classes, though you tried to avoid it. It was clear she wanted nothing to do with you, but she still held your attention captive as though she had never dropped out of your life.

 

On Thanksgiving, Vriska tried to stop you from spending the day with your dad. You were sick of her shit by then, sick of bending to her will. You were more than a little afraid of what she would do, but you needed to breathe. You needed to be your own person.

“Dad!” you called, not even pausing to see if he would respond. “I’m going out! I’ll be back in twenty minutes, tops!”

As someone who had definitely seen _Haunted Mansion_ , you knew not to promise _twenty minutes, tops,_ unless you were absolutely certain. A five minute walk between your house and Vriska’s, maximum of ten minutes to say, “Hey, fuck you! You don’t deserve my time or attention, and I don’t deserve your shit.” Twenty minutes, tops.

You did exactly that. You walked, excruciatingly slowly, to Vriska’s house. It felt like the trip took closer to an hour than five minutes, but suddenly your knuckles were rapping against the front door. Her mother answered, prominent canines showing in her grin as though she had fangs. Her blue eyes sparkled, and she greeted you happily. “Vriska,” she called out, “John is here!”

You shook your head at her quieter invitation for you to come inside. You didn’t want to go in there if you didn’t have to. Vriska appeared in her mother’s place a moment later, blonde hair replacing blonde hair, blue eyes replacing blue eyes. In the place where the elder Serket’s eyes had been warm, Vriska’s were incredibly cold. She could tell, you thought, that you weren’t there to spend Thanksgiving with her family.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you spoke. She opened her mouth to offer a rebuttal, and you lifted one finger, a nonverbal display of shoosh. “I’m tired of doing everything you want me to do just because you’re pretty and popular. I’ve lost all of my friends because of you, and I’m pretty sure your mom likes me more than you do. So I’m sorry, but I really can’t do this anymore. I have always really liked you, I just can’t handle this. It’s too much for me.”

Fuming, Vriska huffed. You were pretty sure you literally saw smoke come out of her ears, but you could have just been imagining her as an angry dragon.

“Unbelievable. I gave you opportunities you couldn’t have dreamt on your own, and THIS is how you thank me.” She shook her head, a dark chuckle leaving her lips. “At least you were a good fuck.”

Just as quickly as her anger appeared, it disappeared. She smiled coolly, cerulean eyes meeting bright blue ones. So quietly you almost couldn’t hear her, she stated that either way, you no longer stood a chance with Ruby. She knew because she single-handedly ruined any chance you could have had when she kissed you at the dance.

You turned heel and fled. You tried to keep a calm appearance, but as soon as you were out of eyesight from her house, you ran home. Your dad was surprised, that had taken less time than he expected. You apologized for your behavior, then apologized once more, “for this,” before locking yourself in your room.

You pulled out your phone, opening a text message to your dad.

 

TO: Dad

hey! i’m sorry, i just broke up with vriska. she’s been pretty crazy lately and it’s been hard for me to deal with. i don’t really want to do anything today, i hope you understand.

 

You heard his phone ding from downstairs, and soon enough you received a text of fatherly understanding, though he was a little bit disappointed because he had a surprised planned for you. You were pretty sure you had the best dad because of how understanding he always was. It made life far easier for you.

An hour or so later, your relief was destroyed when the doorbell rang. There was no way you could hide in your room all night if your dad had invited people over for the holiday. You heard your dad’s booming voice, greeting them and emphasizing that _John is probably still in his room, he said he would be down soon._

The jig is so totally up. Nothing left to do but scurry your little legs to that kitchen, help him cook, and scram as soon as you can.

As you descended the stairs, your eyes landed on an all-too familiar head of white-blonde hair, shorter than you’d ever seen it on her. It looked good. She wore it well, which didn’t surprise you. She wore everything well, even the baggy t-shirt and skinny jeans she had on.

Your heart stopped when you saw her, knowing that she had wanted nothing to do with you for the better part of the last year. As quickly as it stopped, it felt like it had been jump started. You were sure she could hear you from her position near the couch while you were all the way across the living room, coming down the stairs.

You moved with as much haste as you could muster, making it to the kitchen in almost record time. If your dad noticed your behavior, he didn’t comment. He looked a little pleased with himself, but you were _livid._ Why hadn’t he told you he invited the Striders, and why hadn’t Ruby told you that you should maybe not be home because she hated you or something that at least felt like your best friend hating you. Was she still your best friend? Was she still your friend at all? Obviously, your dad thought she was still family, or he wouldn’t have invited them over. Nothing made sense and everything was horrible. At the same time, you were happy to see her. A light feeling filled your stomach when you thought about her, and as you had already experienced, she drove your heart more than a little crazy.

You followed the motions of meal preparation with your dad, but your heart was just not in it. About half an hour until the turkey would be done, there was a knock on the door. Your heart sank, if it was possible to reach lower than it already was. Roxy’s bubbly voice filled the room, and only then did you notice your dad had left you to do the rest on your own.

What should have been a good Thanksgiving, surrounded by your loved ones, was honestly the worst thing you had ever put yourself through. You wished you had just gone along with Vriska’s shenanigans for one more day, then scolded yourself for that line of thinking. You just wanted to take the easy way out. There was no way you would have had the courage to break up with her had it not been a decision between her and your family. Your family would always win out in a decision like that, if only because you were more than a little afraid of Bro kicking your ass over a girl you didn't really care about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my first attempt at writing john!!  
> i'm so sorry  
> also  
> ruby is >:O
> 
> also idk how links work but!! i have tumblr!!  
> bloosie.tumblr.com


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't like he was stupidly happy all the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's,,,,,,,,, rambly but shorter by a lot than the first chapter. i couldn't find the words, so my next chapter will prob pick up where we left off, but i won't be able to write for abt a week or so

Your name was Ruby Strider, and you were officially not a middle-schooler. You were only not a middle schooler by, like, an hour. That didn’t matter. What really mattered to you was that you were back to being friends with your best friend, and he was done being stupid, at least for the time being, and had broken up with Vriska six months earlier. 

It was going to be a good summer being friends with him again. It was weird and definitely took a lot of getting used to to not have the biggest dork in the school grinning at your side all the goddamn time, so having him back was a welcome change. You didn’t really have many friends besides your cousin, John, and Jade. 

Of course, it wasn’t like you didn’t see why Vriska had possessively kept him to herself. Vriska, whom you were like ninety-percent sure was the prettiest girl in school, had likely seen John as someone whose beauty rivaled her own, and the obvious decision would be to have him as an ally rather than an enemy. Wait, no, fuck. You shouldn’t be thinking of John as rivaling Vriska in beauty. What the hell. That is a dangerous line of thinking. Let’s try again.

Trying again now. Vriska was obviously trying to keep John close because  _ she _ thought his beauty rivaled her own, so she would probably rather keep him close than have him take her other pretty friends. Vriska was pretty visibly devastated when her boy walked away, and it was clear that you were probably right in assuming her motives when her posse soon flocked to him, seeking out a better, prettier, bluer leader. Wait, fuck. Fuck. Better, bluer leader.

Lost in thought, you scolded yourself. Why did you keep thinking that John was pretty? Yeah, anyone with eyes could see that he wasn’t bad looking, but shit. He wasn’t some hot hunk. It was probably wrong to be thinking about your best friend like that, too. Like what the hell, Ru? You closed your eyes, sighing. Maybe being out of school wasn’t such a good thing. 

If you were still in school, your classes would be enough of a distraction to keep your mind from wandering as it currently was. You wouldn’t be obsessing over, you mean thinking about, how pretty your friend was. Probably. You wouldn’t be bummed over the fact that he was going to be at your apartment in, you checked your phone to see the time, twenty-three minutes. Probably. 

Processing the time, you jumped up. You hurried down the hall, knuckles rapping against your brother’s door, beating a harsh rhythm on it. When he didn’t answer at first, you tried again. You would have to remember that beat, use it another time. Still no answer, you tried just. Opening it. Surprisingly, it was unlocked. You shoved the door open, snorting at the sight in front of you. 

Bro was sprawled out, face-down on the bed. He had noise-cancelling headphones over his ears, which didn’t surprise you even a little. What did surprise you was how they were on with him sleeping, and how he was sleeping in the middle of the afternoon. He was the type to rise early, sleep late, no naps in between. 

Carefully, you reached with your left arm to nudge his shoulder, try to rouse him. You had learned from experience that he was hell to deal with if you woke him up. You had examined his surroundings beforehand, noting that this action was safe because there were no swords close enough for him to grab; however, you’d underestimated his violent tendencies. 

As soon as your fingers came in contact with his shoulder, his hand was on your wrist, body reacting before his mind was awake. He sat up in a flash, left arm around your neck in a choke-hold while his right still gripped your left wrist, holding it out to the side as if trying to keep the leverage over you. You had expected at least a little bit of an attack, though, so you were prepared.

You may not have been as fast as him, but you were younger and able to keep going longer than he could. The rare times you would win while strifing were only because you were able to hold on until he got pissed enough to give up, grumbling about how you were ungrateful and he hoped you fell off of the roof. You were pretty sure he didn’t mean it when he said he hoped you fell off the roof, considering that he only said it when you were being extraordinarily insufferable. Even if he did, you probably wouldn’t take it too heavily. You adored him.

Back to the point. You knew he would wake up enough in a moment to know that you weren’t attacking him, so trying to knock you out was pointless. Not wanting to wait that long, you pulled your right arm forward, sucking in a deep breath, then released the breath as you drove your elbow into his fleshy torso. You applied enough pressure to convey that it wasn’t a  _ request _ to let go of you, but not enough to actually hurt him. He grunted, grip releasing. No one else would know him well enough to know how to hit his weak spots in a situation like that. 

As though he hadn’t just been holding you in a way akin to a death grip, Bro cleared the sleep out of his throat. “Sup,” he greeted, completely casual. His headphones had managed to stay on through the commotion, and you noticed for the first time that he wasn’t wearing his shades. 

“John will be here in like twenty minutes. Figured you wouldn’t want to be asleep for that, since you’re in love with him or something like that.” You were almost certain this wasn’t true, but it was an entertaining idea, and one explanation for constantly suggesting he come over.

Bro scoffed, shaking his head. This confirmed your belief that he was not, in fact, in love with John, or something like that. “Think you might be projecting a lil much, sis. Better watch that shit. But yeah, thanks for waking me up. I’ll order y’all a pizza or something.”

You were ignoring his comment on your projection. In fact, you didn’t even hear it. Didn’t hear what? There was no comment. There was no projection. What even is projection? What was he claiming? Was he claiming something? He must not have, considering you didn’t hear any. Who was he? Who were you?

Your name was Ruby Strider, and you needed to take a breath and calm down. You made a shitty joke, your brother bit back. That was fine. Your friend would be at your house in fifteen minutes. You should probably get ready for that, at least get the TV set up for gaming. 

You set up the Wii and TV, knowing that John would want to play Mario Kart because you knew John, and he was the simplest guy. He liked Ghostbusters, Matthew McConaughey, various cheesy movies, and video games for children. He liked ham, bologna, and mac and cheese. For whatever reason, he also  _ loved _ milk. Who even likes milk. Milk is disgusting and should only be consumed with cereal or in its chocolatiest state. 

Lost in thought, you spent far more time than was necessary thinking about beverages. You couldn’t help the fact that some of your friends had horrible tastes in the things they put in their mouths. It was like they had no taste buds. They couldn’t appreciate the finer things in life like pizza rolls and apple juice, which you definitely would live off of if you could. Your brother argued, saying you had to have  _ some _ nutrients. Ridiculous, you thought. You were fourteen years old and thought you could decide for yourself if you needed real nutrients or if you needed sweet, sweet carbs and the nectar of the gods. 

Apparently, you had been thinking for just a little bit too long, because you were pulled from your trance by a loud, repetitive buzzing coming from near the door. You covered the distance quickly, pressing the button on your end to say to send the visitor up. You didn’t really think that was actually necessary, seeing as you’d had keys to each other’s homes for years, and many times in the past John had just waltzed in like he lived there. He practically did, he had his own drawer of clothes so he wouldn’t have to pack overnight bags when you had sleepovers. When your respective guardians had decided the other was trustworthy, the keys had been gifted. 

Sure as shit, after you buzzed him up, John didn’t knock on the door at all. He walked in, once again adopting his former behavior of also living there. A characteristic grin graced his face, his front teeth ever-so-slightly over-sized. His smile was similar to that of an overenthusiastic eight-year-old, which was both fitting and not fitting for him. He was a cheery guy, you could admit that, but it wasn’t like he was stupidly happy all the time. He dealt with his own shit, he’d just also set that down to help with someone else’s. Put his sweet ass on the line for his friends. 

Sweet ass? Where did that come from? Well, if you’d stop bullshitting yourself for three and a half seconds, you’d know that it came from the same place that made you think of him as pretty or beautiful. But you weren’t about to stop bullshitting yourself, because you suddenly didn’t know what you were thinking at all. Were you thinking? Not even a little. Impossible to bullshit yourself if you don’t know what you could possibly be bullshitting about. 

You decided to push all thoughts of sweet asses and bullshit out of your mind, not allowing yourself to go off on an impossibly long tangent on the topic, instead following John to the living room, which had no actual barrier between it and the kitchen and entryway. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAa i'm bad at time management ;)  
> let me know if i am alright at writing dave stuff! i like to think i am okay at it, but i feel like i go a little too over the top sometimes. 
> 
> p.s. follow my tumblrs!  
> bloosie.tumblr.com (for my writing progress probably, i've posted like one time on it :') )  
> imlovejohnegbert.tumblr.com (i post abt my love for john egbert. there's a lil group of imloves! we have a discord!! contact me or imlovekarkatvantas.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> short, quick update... possible title: plot development

Your name was the same since the last time you spoke, but you guessed you would give a refresher. It was Ruby Strider, and you hated high school. You were growing apart from John, watching him moon over Rose even though you were like ten thousand percent sure she didn’t even like boys. When you confronted her on the topic, she laughed like an asshole and avoided showing her true feelings. 

You guessed you could kinda understand, since you tended to play the coolkids-have-no-emotions card, but you had an unspoken no bullshit rule with Rose that she was breaking, goddammit. 

You sought comfort elsewhere since she was being so standoffish, growing close to your friends Terezi and Karkat. Through the blind girl and her best friend, who liked to yell and use creative insults, you became more familiar with yourself and really owned up to the fact that you were definitely probably in love with John Egbert. 

You at least sustained some pretty hefty feelings for him. You guessed it made sense, since you  _ had _ spent the better part of like eleven years side by side, and you  _ had _ watched him grow from a stupid boy to a stupider teenager. 

You had it bad. Ninth grade couldn’t go by soon enough.

 

But it did. It flew by before your eyes. John and Rose started dating, to the best of your knowledge, for like two weeks, before Rose  _ totally _ broke his heart. She fucking crushed him. 

Literally the exact same day, she came out to your friend group as gay. It wasn’t a mystery, then, why she broke up with him.

 

You were watching some shitty TV show with your Bro, in which someone told their family they felt like they were a different gender than they presented. Sometimes you wished it was that easy. If you had been born a boy, maybe you would be able to see your friends as just friends and not complicate things with stupid hormones. 

You turned to see Bro watching you, a knowing look on his face and in his eyes in one of those rare moments of genuine emotion the two of you shared without shades. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter sucks! i'm trying to push content while moving and working a full time job! if you like it, follow me on tumblr at bloosie.tumblr.com! i don't know how links work :)


End file.
